In Dreams
by czpanda1213
Summary: Fifteen year old Annika gets sucked into the world of the Mortal Instruments in her dreams, but can she ever get back to the real world?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: HELLO TO EVERYONE WHO IS READING THIS! :) ANYWAY, THIS WAS WRITTEN AS A SURPRISE FOR MY BEST FRIEND, WHOSE BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP VEERY SOON! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!**

_Annika was dreaming. That much at least she was aware of. She floated about in darkness, her body almost seeming ethereal in the whorls of black that spiraled around her. Pale and glowing, she lifted an arm to her face, only to find that her arm could go through her face and her entire head. She was transparent, like a ghost. Three same thoughts continually bounced around in her mind. My birthday. February 14. Tomorrow. Before anything else entered her mind, her ghost-like body was sucked up into a swirling vortex._

_When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing in front of the Empire State Building. The only reason she knew it was the Empire State Building was that she'd visited New York before. But why was she in New York? Her house was in the suburban areas of Chicago, and that was in Illinois! Unfortunately, she was still transparent._

_"Hello," Annika said to a woman who was bundled up in a long black coat who was also walking right by her. She didn't reply. In fact, she didn't even acknowledge the fact that Annika was right next to her. "HELLO," she said in a louder voice. The woman still made no response. "I'm right here, lady! Can you at least acknowledge my existence?" Annika waved her arms as she spoke, but she wasn't paying attention to where her arms were, so she ended up smacking the woman in the arm._

_Or would have ended up smacking her in the arm. Her ghostly transparent arms went right through the woman, making a light whooshing sound as her arm passed clean through the lady's body. Annika shuddered. If her arms had solidified when they were slicing through the lady's body…...well, it would have been a rather gruesome sight. But something hit her right after the lady walked away, without even noticing the fact that a girl's arms had just swiped through her own body like a credit card. She was still transparent._

_"You have got to be kidding me," Annika muttered in exasperation. "Meh! Still transparent! The one time I get to go to New York, and I'm transparent and completely invisible?!" As though she had made a wish, a dark cloud descended over her and covered her vision. "Get away from me!" She made feeble attempts at trying to dissipate the cloud, but it was like trying to swat a boulder._

Annika opened her eyes for the third time now, and saw that to her relief, she was completely solid. It's still just a dream, she thought to herself. You aren't actually in New York. Glancing around, she saw that she was standing in Central Park. A path snaked past her and trees and benches lined the sides.

Weird. She hadn't been thinking about New York when she went to bed, and she definitely hadn't been thinking of Central Park. Suddenly, something that was vaguely doorway-like and rippled like a mirage appeared in front of her and she yelped in surprise. Meaning to get away from the thing—Portal, she thought, from the Mortal Instruments series, but why would it be here—she stumbled backward, but before she could move more than a full step, someone tumbled out of the Portal and landed squarely on top of her, resulting in the two of them dropping to the ground and landing hard. Especially Annika, since she was the one on the bottom.

The person was a young girl, not much older than maybe fifteen or sixteen. She had fiery red hair that cascaded in untamed curls down her back. When Annika twisted her head to look up, her own indigo eyes met emerald green ones. A light sprinkle of freckles dotted the girl's face, and her skin was porcelain white.

"Ouch," the girl moaned, then seemed to register the fact that she was lying on top of someone else, and quickly scrambled to her feet. Annika did likewise. "Who are you?" the girl asked her, not unkindly but curious, yet still guardedly.

"Annika," she replied distantly, staring at the girl. Flaming red hair, vivid green eyes, that description was becoming increasingly familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place the name. "What's your name? And why did you fall on top of me?"

"Clary," the girl responded. Amazement was showing on her face, along with incredulity. "You can see me?"

"Of course I can see you, I'm not blind," Annika said, then remembered why the description had seemed so familiar to her. She was staring into the eyes of Clary Fray, the female protagonist and main character of The Mortal Instruments. Another question surfaced in Annika's mind: Why are there characters and elements from a book series appearing in the real world?

Just as she opened her mouth to ask Clary a question, something flew out of the Portal, slammed into her and knocked her down again. She screamed loudly, but no passerby heard her. "OW!"

"What did I land on? Last I checked, grass doesn't talk," someone said in a snide tone of voice. The voice also belonged to the person who had landed on her. This time, molten gold eyes met her own, and Annika froze. Gold eyes, sarcastic, yep, that was Jace.

"And I'm also not grass," she snapped back at him. He stared at her uncomprehendingly, then began to laugh. Carefully standing up, he brushed the dirt from his clothes, and smirked at her.

"Sassy one, aren't you?" Jace remarked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his tone.

"Jace! Don't be rude!" Clary smacked him, then turned back to Annika and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, he's usually not this...discourteous."

"What are you talking about? I'm just being my usual charming self!" Jace protested, earning himself another smack from Clary.

"Oh, trust me, I know," Annika muttered under her breath. But inside, butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She was actually meeting and talking to Jace! And Clary! Though she really hadn't expected Jace to be, well, so Jace like, but she probably shouldn't be surprised.

Scrambling to her feet, Annika quickly smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt, courtesy of Jace and his absolutely spectacular landing, and glared at him.

"Uh, Annika? You might want to—" Clary didn't get a chance to finish her sentence before another shape flew out of the Portal and fell on top of Annika. For the third time in a row.

Now angry and charged with adrenaline, Annika shoved the figure who was on top of her off her body and stood up. "Ow!" she shouted. "And do not fall on top of me again! What do you take me for, a welcome mat?"

"—move," Clary finished weakly.

"Tsk tsk. Alec, you might want to move. And get up. This one has a temper," Jace observed. Annika stormed up to him and glared at him. He glared right back, and indigo clashed with gold.

The person who'd just fallen on her—Alec—got up and when he saw her, he stiffened. "Sorry about that. And what do you mean? Did these two fall on top of you too?" he apologized, but his voice was flat as a board.

"It's okay," she replied, but her voice held no warmth. It wasn't exactly glacial, but it wasn't warm and welcoming either. More like...cool.

"How can you see us?" Jace and Alec demanded in unison.

"Chill. I can see you, okay?" Annika sighed in exasperation. But Jace wasn't believing her story. His face tightened, and held little of the humor that had existed only moments before.

Because of his sudden change in tone and expression, she grew a little nervous, and her hand went to the dagger sheathed in her belt. Whipping it out, she pointed the sharpened tip towards Jace, but within seconds it fell from her hand and clattered to the ground. A smug look on his face, Jace smirked at her. Drat Jace. He had knocked it easily out of her grip.

"You can't hurt me with that, little girl," he said. "Plus, I am so much better than you in all aspects. Looks, speed, strength, use of humor…" He went on to list things Annika hadn't even realized existed, and he went on babbling until she couldn't take it anymore.

Lunging forward, her hand lifted and crack. Her hand left a red mark on his cheek, throbbing and angry. Anger that matched her own. She heard a laugh, and saw to her surprise that it was Alec who had laughed, not Clary, though she was unsuccessfully holding back a smile.

"What's going on here? And who slapped Jace? Whoever it was, I commend them. And encourage them to do it again," a different, feminine voice said. A figure walked gracefully out of the shadows of the trees, and Annika saw that it was a girl. A very beautiful girl.

Isabelle Lightwood stepped out, and a small smile lifted the corners of her lips. She had raven-black hair that fell in a soft, dark waterfall to her waist, and had a slim and curvy figure. The gear she was wearing only emphasized her hourglass shaped body even more. Her steps were quiet as a cat's, and soft as feathers.

When she saw Annika, her eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"Annika," she introduced herself. "And to answer your question, I slapped Jace"—at this point she shrugged—"because he was being an arrogant prat. And I'm not all that fond of arrogant prats."

Now Isabelle's smile grew wider. "She called you an arrogant prat! I like her!" she chortled. "She's fierce, strong, and not girly."

"I," Jace protested, feigning mock hurt, "am not an arrogant prat. I am an incredibly beautiful person."

"Also an arrogant prat," Annika and Isabelle pointed out. Clary grinned, and voiced her opinion.

"Personally, I agree with the two of them," she said, and Jace pouted.

"Where are your Marks?" Alec asked her, his voice quiet. "Only other Shadowhunters can see us, and all Shadowhunters bear runes. Yet you do not have any."

Now Annika faltered. She had no idea how to explain her lack of runes, and it was clear that all four of them would be able to tell if she was lying. Isabelle and Clary were staring intently at her, Clary giving her the slightest of encouraging smiles. Alec's cold stare was focused entirely on her, and Jace's demeanor was amused, and held a lazy confidence.

"I…" she started. Thankfully, Izzy saved her from answering, because she really had no idea how to explain without seeming entirely insane.

"You can call me Izzy," she said. Her whip snaked out from her sleeve where she'd been wearing it on her wrist. Annika, fearing she might use the whip on her, backed up a little. Cracking the whip, Isabelle turned back to her and smiled a glittering, chilly smile. "And I'll help you train. You already know how to use basic weapons, I can see that, and your speed is notable. Your strength, however, may need some work, as will your stamina. And I'll help you. Also, slap Jace more often. He may be my adopted brother, but that doesn't mean he isn't a complete jerk and as you put it, an arrogant prat sometimes."

Well. Isn't that nice. Izzy was offering to help train her. "Thank you, Isa—Izzy," she corrected herself.

Clary smiled. "And I'll help too. What do you say to a girls day out tomorrow? Just you, Izzy, and me."

Now Annika felt more at ease. "That would be lovely." Jace began to protest, but Isabelle effectively shut him up with a threatening crack of her whip. Alec didn't agree, but he didn't seem entirely happy with the current situation either.

"Great!" Izzy squealed. "Annika, how about you come back to the Institute with us? You can stay there for a while, and Clary and I can help you train!"

"Hold on," Alec interjected. "Are you sure Maryse will allow it? And we don't know for sure she's a Shadowhunter or not."

"We'll just tell her she's a new friend of mine who needs a place to stay," Isabelle replied. "That's not necessarily entirely false either. And of course she's a Shadowhunter. She wouldn't be able to see us if she isn't one."

"I know how we can see if she is or not," Jace interrupted. His hand wandered down to his belt, where he drew out a glowing white wand of sorts. His stele. He handed it to Izzy, who took the proffered item without resistance. "Here, you do it. I don't think she'll want me anywhere near her." He smirked. Annika gritted her teeth.

Isabelle took the stele and set it to the inside of her forearm. "This might sting a little, okay?"

Annika nodded, and gave her permission to draw on her arm. Izzy began drawing. Thick black lines swirled out from the tip of the stele, and when Iz was done, Annika saw that the rune that had been drawn was enkeli, the rune for angelic power.

Everyone had been holding their breath, Annika herself included. They all waited to see what would happen. She dearly hoped she would not go crazy and turn into Forsaken, but if she did, she just hoped that Jace wouldn't be the one to kill her.

A minute later, she dared to open her eyes. Looking down, she saw that not a hair had been harmed on her body. She was perfectly fine. No lacerated skin, no burning scent, no peeling hairs. Nothing to prove that she was turning Forsaken. The rune was still on her arm, thick and black.

"So she isn't a mundie after all," Jace muttered. "I had rather been hoping she would turn out to be one."

"Jace!" Clary and Isabelle both turned on him. Alec seemed amused at the sight.

Annika let out a sigh of relief. So she was a Shadowhunter. "Look, we know I'm not a mundane, so can we leave now?"

"Sure," Clary responded. "Right after Mr. Ego here gets his well-earned smacks." Jace grinned, a crazy, maniacal grin.

Izzy whacked him with the butt of her whip twice, just hard enough to bruise the skin but not break it. Jace rubbed his arm vigorously. "Ow," he said.

"And those were for being rude to our guest," Izzy grinned.

Then the five of them set out towards the Institute, with the boys sulking in the back and the girls talking and laughing in the front. The minute Izzy showed her to a spare bedroom, Annika thanked her newfound friend profusely, and the minute Izzy walked out of the room, she slumped down onto the bed and fell asleep immediately.

_More black swirls. Another vortex. "Not again," Annika groaned. She lifted an arm, and saw to her immediate disappointment that she was transparent. But this time, she knew that what had happened in Central Park was all just a dream. It had never happened. She felt a slight pang of sadness. But why? She had never really warmed up to Alec's stoicness, and Jace's arrogance was something she should be glad to be rid of. But then she remembered Izzy and Clary, and then figured out the reason for her sadness. There wasn't time for another thought before the vortex swallowed her up again, so the last thought in Annika's head was, My birthday is tomorrow._

When her eyes opened, she saw that sunlight was filtering through a window. Oh, good. Her bedroom. But was it her bedroom? "Okay, so it was all a dream," she decided.

"What was all a dream?" a vaguely familiar and drawling voice inquired. She opened her eyes, surprised at the voice, and saw a boy, not much older than she was, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with black hair and alluring blue eyes. Her first thought was, _WHY IS THERE A BOY IN MY BEDROOM?!_

Then she realized who the boy was, and groaned in despair. "Please tell me this is just a dream," she sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: HULLO, GUYS! MY FRIEND WANTED ME TO ADD ANOTHER CHAPTER, SO HERE IT IS! HOPE YOU LIKE IT! **

The boy simply gaped at her. And she gaped back at him.

"_Alec_?" Annika was surprised. What was he doing in her room? Alec was the most composed of the group. Certainly, Jace would probably intrude into a girl's personal space—bedrooms included—but Alec didn't seem like one to do so. The boy who stood before her didn't act like Alec either. Alec was quiet, brooding, and this boy was like the personality clone of Jace.

"Who is Alec?" the boy asked, confusion mixing with amusement in his expression. His cerulean blue eyes sparked with curiosity. By the Angel, he was handsome. Well chiseled features, a strong jaw, tangled black hair, and his oh-so-mysterious blue eyes combined created a piece of artwork: him.

"You…" Annika trailed into silence awkwardly. It was Alec but not Alec at the same time. He looked like Alec, but had the characteristics of Jace.

"My name is Will. William Herondale, but do call me Will. I have absolutely no idea what you are yammering about, for I am not this Alec person you speak so eagerly of," he introduced himself, raising an eyebrow as he said the last part. Annika only knew all too well what he was implying.

Cheeks flushing, Annika scowled at him. "He isn't my boyfriend, if that's what you're wondering!"

"Boyfriend? What is that?" Will wondered aloud.

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "You don't know what a boyfriend is?"

"No…" Will didn't look as though he was joking. Rather, he appeared even more befuddled than before—if that was even possible.

She thought for a moment. "How to say this...you'd say a...lover?"

He didn't appear to have heard her. Instead, he was listening intently to someone else's voice from the corridor. How rude!

She cleared her throat. Will's attention focused back on her again.

"You'll need some more appropriate clothing. You cannot wear that outside, or there'll be a riot. A lady does not show the curve of her thighs or her waist." He looked uncomfortable.

Sighing, she shook her head in exasperation. "Someone told you to say that, didn't they." It wasn't a question. A statement, actually.

"How'd you know?"

"I might not have known you for a long time, but I can tell that it isn't something you would usually say."

"Jessamine told me to tell you. According to her, you are dressed like a prostitute"—he gestured at her clothes—"and that you should at least wear a chemise. Though I rather like the form-fitting style you have," he said, smirking. His eyes scanned her body, racing from her hair to her toes. And judging by the way he was looking at her, he didn't mean that comment in a completely polite way either.

"Then you should tell Jessamine—whoever she is—that I prefer my style to hers and that I am keeping my clothing," she responded stiffly.

Will turned to the door, stuck his head outside, and shouted, "Jessie! Our guest does not require your advice or fashion services!"

"My goodness," Annika muttered under her breath. "You are like a copy of Jace."

"Come along. I will show you around," he sighed. "And while we're at it, perhaps I will even show you the lovely Pyxis we own. Or the door opening into thin air. Or—"

"I get it. Tour. Pyxis. You're annoyed. Let's get this over with."

Will led her from the bedroom. He really was an excellent guide, Annika thought. He showed her the drawing room, the dining room, the weapons room—here he said she was banned from touching anything in that particular room—the library, and now they were arriving at the kitchen.

"Agatha is our cook," he was saying. "Agatha, this is Miss…" He stopped when he realized that he had not bothered to even learn her name.

"Annika," she filled in.

"Miss Annika. Miss Annika, this is Agatha."

"William, do not touch that cake!" Agatha commanded. Too late. Will had reached out and swiped a handful of cake. Chocolate cake. Annika shuddered. She loved actual chocolate, but despised chocolate flavored things, chocolate cake included.

He laughed gleefully. Almost involuntarily, she lunged forward and grabbed half of the handful he had held in his hand away from him. He shouted, and tried to get it back, but accidentally got the brown chocolate icing on her violet shirt.

"Will! You got frosting on my shirt! As they say, revenge is sweet! Literally, in this case," she grinned wickedly. Snatching a handful of cake from the platter, she wound her arm back, and said, "Unfortunately for you, I have excellent aim. And also unfortunately for you, I know exactly where to aim."

Letting her arm go, the chocolate missile flew through the air and splat! The ball of dessert splattered all over Will's face, covering his face in brown goo. Agatha had a look of complete shock on her face, hands covering her mouth. But her eyes sparkled.

Will howled. "You got it on my nose! You…" He proceeded to swear and curse in multiple different languages, English included.

"You deserved it! You ruined my shirt! At least chocolate icing on your face is washable!"

When she bent over to roll another chunk of cake into a ball that was throwable, Will whacked her in the head with a slice of cake, and splattered her hair with brown, gooey, sticky frosting. Sputtering in outrage, she whipped the unfinished ball at Will. "Oh, it's on!"

The Chocolate Cake Fight went on for a few more minutes, and when the door to the kitchen opened, neither person noticed, and the only one who heard the door was Agatha.

"Miss Cecily!" she gasped. "Be careful! Master Will—" She didn't get to finish her sentence. Will had tossed a huge blob of chocolate cake at Annika, but she ducked out of the way, and the chocolate cake splattered onto someone else who sputtered in bewilderment.

"—and Miss Annika are having a cake fight," Agatha finished weakly.

"Miss Annika?" the girl who'd just come in questioned.

"That's her," Will said cheerfully, pointing a chocolate-covered finger toward Annika.

"Will," the girl said in exasperation. "I see you are as incorrigible as ever. Hello, I am Cecily Herondale, Will's sister. What an awful way for us to meet!" She introduced herself to Annika, who smiled. Cecily reminded her of Isabelle.

Just then, a chocolate ball smashed into Cecily's bodice, and she sputtered in outrage. "William Herondale!" Then she whipped two balls simultaneously back at him.

"Hey! It's two against one! Not fair!"

"You're a man, Will. It's very fair."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: HI EVERYONE! THIS IS THE THIRD CHAPTER OF IN DREAMS! ENJOY!**

Annika huffed and wiped chocolate cake from her face with the back her hand, while Cecily was still chucking cake balls at her older brother, who was doing likewise. Out of nowhere, a ball of chocolate appeared and was aiming straight for her face. She tried to duck, but was too slow. Opening her mouth, the only thing that came out was a strangled yelp that was immediately cut short but the edible projectile. Chocolate spattered into her mouth, and she closed her mouth with a snap.

Spitting the chocolate out, she proceeded to get the chocolate out of her mouth. "Ugh. Why did the cake have to be chocolate? Why couldn't it have been vanilla?!"

Will raised an eyebrow. "What do you have against chocolate?" Multitasking, unfortunately, was not one of her talents, but it apparently was one of Will's. Talking and lobbing cake balls came easily for him, like one might be able to walk and chew gum.

Shuddering, Annika answered him. "I hate chocolate flavored things. Actual chocolate is good, but I absolutely despise chocolate flavored foods. Chocolate cake included."

He dropped the cake projectile he had been preparing to throw at Cecily in surprise. "Excuse you!"

"He loves chocolate. Ignore him," Cecily said, chuckling. She also took the opportunity to hurl a huge orb of chocolatey dessert at him, resulting in Will being even more chocolate covered.

"Are you three satisfied now?" Agatha asked, not unkindly or accusing. "It'll be your fault when no one gets any dessert tonight."

"Even Jem?" Will inquired amusedly. Glancing at the cake—or the platter on which the cake had once sat, rather—Annika saw that there was nothing left of the once cylindrical cake but smeared globs of brown goo.

"Even Master Jem," Agatha sighed. "Mr. and Mrs. Branwell included as well. And Miss Jessamine."

"Jessamine," Will said, and his voice was full of loathing. "We needn't worry about her."

"Will. Don't be rude," Cecily admonished him.

He dismissed it with a wave of his hand, and his sister smacked him in the arm. But all this time, Annika's mind was swirling with complex thoughts, and it was driving her nuts. Jem was here? Here, in the Institute?

Shaking her head, Annika sighed. "This is incredibly confusing for my brain, so I'm going to go and brush up on my aim. It's never good enough." Just as she got up to leave, someone caught at her arm, but she pulled away easily.

"Annika. Wait. Don't go into the training room—" Cecily started, but Annika never heard the end of her sentence, for she had already left the room, complete with a stunned Cecy, a chortling Will, and an amused Agatha.

Stalking down the hall, she saw a young girl carrying a pail of water, but when she waved at her with a "Hello", the girl only bent her head down lower and walked faster. Sophie, Annika thought.

Passing the library, she recognised a few of the books lying on the tables. There was A Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations, Little Women, and more classics. She was about to duck into the library, but remembered she was going to the training room.

After turning a few more corners, getting lost once, and wandering down the wrong corridor twice, Annika finally found her way to the training room. She carefully pulled open the heavy doors, then inched into the room.

Someone was inside, and she heard and recognised the swooshing sound of a blade being swiped through the air. Taking a peek, she saw a silvery figure gracefully moving about in the dim lighting of the room. A sword flashed in the light, and when the figure turned, she emitted a small gasp.

He had the chiseled good looks of a fairy tale prince, though his silvery hair and eyes were not commonly seen in fairy tale princes.

"Will? Is that you?" he asked, not bothering to look at exactly who was standing in the doorway gaping at him. A minute later, when Annika had not replied, he sighed. "No, it can't be you. If it were you, you would would have made some sort of comment—and a sarcastic one at that—by now."

Annika was still staring. His voice was low and melodic, and held a sort of lucidness that she greatly appreciated. His skin was pale, but she thought the look rather suited him. "I'm...not Cecily," she breathed. He stopped suddenly and turned to look at her.

"Who are you?" Normally if someone else had asked her that question, she would have punched their lights out, but this boy captivated her. His voice held no hostility, only a mere curiosity and a hint of thoughtfulness.

"Annika," she answered. "You?" The minute the words tumbled out of her mouth, she regretted them. She realized she must have sounded awfully improper, and amended, "What's your name?"

"James. James Carstairs, but everyone calls me Jem. You are not and should not be any exception," Jem said softly.

Annika knew that it was probably rude to attack a person a mere two minutes after meeting them, but she got the feeling Jem, being his kind self, wouldn't mind. And besides, she seriously needed to clear her mind, and there was just oh so conveniently someone for her to spar with. So she lunged forward, but before physically attacking him, she gave him a warning in advance. "Jem," she said quietly. He looked her way. "En garde!"

A surprised look appeared on his face, but was wiped away quickly. Her leg came up and gave him a solid kick in the thigh, and he stumbled a little, but quickly regained his balance. He thwacked her in her arm, but not enough to really hurt, only enough to mildly irritate her.

In the midst of the fighting, neither person noticed the door open behind them, and went on fighting. Jem was defending, and Annika was pummeling him. She yanked a broadsword from its place on the wall, and Jem used the sword he had been practicing with before to defend himself.

"So you have taken to fighting girls now, James? If you wanted a feminine opponent to spar with, you could have just asked Cecily, you know," a slow and drawling voice remarked. Both of them whirled around to see Will leaning lazily against the door frame, and Annika blushed furiously, mostly because of the position she and Jem were stuck in.

They had dropped the swords a minute ago and were now stuck in a wrestling position. Jem had his arm wrapped around her leg, and had her other leg thrown over his shoulder. Her arms were twisted around his waist, and they were stuck in a generally awkward position. Wrestling may be fun, but it can get one in a particularly uncomfortable position with one's opponent.

Will raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're actually fighting? You look rather like you two are...canoodling."

"Shut up!" Annika screeched, her face turning ten shades redder. She tried to get up, but since her limbs were all tangled up with Jem's—a rather disconcerting thought—she couldn't get up, not without making the current situation more problematic. And by problematic, discomfort and embarrassment were implied.

Jem, however, only appeared mildly exasperated. "Will, where were you? I came down here to spar with you an hour ago! And would you care to enlighten me with the explanation for why you and Miss Annika here are covered in chocolate cake and icing?" He also completely avoided any acknowledgement of their current position, for which Annika was grateful. She didn't want to be in any way reminded of her humiliation any more than she needed to be.

"Well, James, before Miss Annika came down here to...spar...with you, we were lobbing clumps of chocolate cake at each other, thus explaining why we are covered from head to toe in the stuff."

Just then Cecily walked in, probably curious about all the commotion, and froze the second her brain registered the scene before her.

"Cecily," Jem acknowledged her with a smile and a small nod. She didn't respond in similar fashion. Or at all, actually.

"Jem?!" Cecily's outburst didn't seem to faze Jem.

Annika was about to open her mouth to explain, but the door opened again and a small, almost petite woman with brown hair twisted up in a chignon walked inside, clearly looking for someone. She gave a start when she saw Annika on the floor of the training room with Jem, but didn't say anything.

"Charlotte," Jem acknowledged. "Were you looking for one of us?"

"My. Well, I was looking for you and Will, but I suppose the entire group is fine. Magnus is here to see you. My dear, what's your name?" Charlotte Branwell asked her kindly.

"Annika," she answered faintly.

"Miss Annika, have you met Magnus Bane before?" asked Charlotte.

"No, but I have heard of him," replied Annika.

"Heard of who?" A man swept into the training room just then, and focused his eyes on Annika's. Her own indigo eyes stared into...cat eyes. She stifled a gasp, and tried to school her features into bland amusement. Didn't work.

Magnus's hair was covered in glitter, glitter of all colors. His clothes looked as though a sparkly rainbow had exploded in his wardrobe. "I am Magnus Bane. Warlock. I know all of you are Shadowhunters, but who is the new girl?"

"For the fourth time, my name is Annika!" she burst out. Magnus raised his glittery eyebrows.

"Someone's crabby today. Did Agatha by any chance bake crab-apple dumplings and she ate a few?" Magnus inquired.

"No, but she did bake a chocolate cake and Miss Annika here got a bit...splattered...with it," Charlotte explained. At this, Will smirked, and Cecily grimaced.

"And why is she entangled as such with Jem?"

"Annika challenged me to a fight," Jem said calmly. "But she never specified what type of fighting would be used."

"I see," said Magnus.

Disentangling herself from Jem, Annika stood up and glared at Will. It was his fault her clothes were ruined. It was also his fault for being in her room. Ugh.

"I don't suppose we can go back to the kitchen to get something to eat?" Will remarked dryly.

Annika smacked his arm, hard. "If you're planning to take us all into the kitchen just to whack me with hams and smear jellies and jams on my clothes, don't even think about it!"

"But you would look absolutely stunning with glittery jam in your hair, would you not agree, Magnus?"

Magnus nodded cheerfully. Annika turned on him, glaring at him ferociously enough to make an angry tiger back away whimpering.

"And glittery jellies!"

"William Herondale!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: HELLO, EVERYONE! HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!**

Cecily laughed out loud as she listened to Annika recount her story, beginning with waking up to find Will in her room all the way to meeting Jem. "You goaded Jem into a fight with you?"

"He was fast," Annika admitted. "Faster and stronger than I imagined he would be."

"Of course he was," Cecily scoffed. "He's been training since he was twelve."

"And you? How long have you been training for?" Annika asked, curious.

"Only a year," Cecily sighed. "I haven't been here very long, only a year, really."

"Really? Your brother seems more comfortable here than you are," Annika added, not accusing, only noting.

"That's because he's been here since he was twelve. I came here when I was fifteen. I'm sixteen now," Cecily explained.

They stopped in front of a door, and Cecily smiled sadly. "Here's your room, Annika. I'll let you freshen up. And besides, it's nearly eleven at night. Sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, thank you, Cecy," she said, calling Cecily by her nickname. Her newfound friend turned at the sound of her nickname. Lips curving up into a slight smile, Will's younger sister waved, and glided down the hallway.

Stepping past the threshold of the room, Annika closed the distance between herself and the bed quickly in a few big strides. She slumped down onto the mattress, and her head hit the pillow. The minute her head touched the soft down pillow, she fell fast asleep.

When she awoke, she looked around for the window that was on one of the walls of her bedroom, looked around for the sunlight that should be streaming in through the glass panes, but there was none. There was, however, a lamp on a small side table by the side of the bed, and she turned it on.

Her room exploded in brilliant sparkles, and she winced. This early in the morning, her eyes did not appreciate the sudden brightness. Wait, glitter? Why was there glitter in her room? Annika sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around. And promptly screamed. The walls of her room were covered thickly with glitter, the minimal furniture in the room was covered in glitter shooting miniature fireworks. A banner over the door of the room read, **HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNIKA!** in gold and silver glitter. More glitter. And extremely bright light. Ugh. Hopefully she would not be blind by the end of the day.

The glitter was clearly the work of Magnus, and the desserts were most likely from Agatha. The weapons tied up red ribbons were obviously from either Jem or Will, but when she saw the towering stack of books resting on the ground, she knew who had sent what. A box wrapped in red and pink silk was lying there, and she saw a card that read, **Happy Birthday, Annika! Love, Cecy**. A bundle of chiffons and velvets was from Jessamine, probably new clothes. There was a small box from Charlotte at the foot of the bed, and a plain gray box—probably from Henry—sat by itself on top of the lamp. A peculiar choice of location, Annika thought, but Henry was Henry.

Since the box from Henry was closest to her, she reached for it and snatched it, and was about to open it when the door to her room swung open and a shout of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANNIKA!" was heard, but was also muffled when Will, who was at the front of the group, ran straight into the banner they'd put up right in front of the door.

"Oof!" Will stumbled. Annika began laughing.

But it was Cecily who first saw the box in her hand, and put two and two together in her head fairly quickly. "Wait! Don't open—" Cecy started, but it was too late. Annika had opened the box.

Immediately, there was an awful squawking noise that sounded a cross between a trumpeter swan and a trumpet, and soon Annika realized that it was the latter. A high, shrill noise joined in, and she realized it was a flute playing. Then she recognized the tune, even with the intense screeching and squawking noises from the 'instruments' that were playing from the music box from Henry. Then the tune changed to 'Here Comes the Bride', and Henry immediately looked up in surprise.

"I'm not getting married, Henry," Annika laughed. "But I love the...ah...music box?"

Henry's face brightened. "Really? It's one of my new inventions! I call it the music box! It…" He went on to describe all the instruments and songs the box was supposed to play, but the rest of the group zoned out on him.

"Do you like your new wallpaper?" Magnus asked excitedly. "I did it myself!"

"I can tell, Magnus," Annika replied wryly. "I'm fairly sure no other person here is that obsessed with glitter."

"—it," Cecily finished. "Ooh! Open my gift!"

Annika opened the box wrapped in silk, and gasped in surprise. "A puppy? Cecy, thank you so much! I love your gift!" The puppy couldn't have been more than six months old, with large brown eyes and soft black and gray fur. "I'm naming her Callie!"

She laughed as the dog licked her cheek, and set Callie down next to her. Next she opened the rest of her presents, thanked the others profusely, though she glared at Will when he passed her a chocolate tart.

"Come! Let us have cake!" Charlotte ushered the group to the dining room, and they sat down. Agatha and Sophie served sweet after sweet, and the children stuffed themselves, Annika herself included.

When their breakfast of desserts came to an end, Annika was beaming. "Thank you, guys! This was the best birthday surprise ever!"

A voice then echoed throughout the room. "Am I missing a party?" Isabelle Lightwood.

Rising from her chair, Annika ran to her friend and gave her a quick hug. Izzy embraced her. "Izzy! How did you get here?"

"Portal," Iz said dismissively. "Magnus made one."

"Magnus? Magnus is right here," Annika said carefully.

"He is? Oh, hello Magnus!" Isabelle waved a hand. "Clary's almost..." Then Clary stumbled through the doorway. "Here," Izzy finished.

"Annika!" Clary ran at her and engulfed in a bear hug. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Wait," Annika said, the truth dawning on her, "if you two are here, are the boys here too?"

"Alec, black is a manly color! Not navy blue!" An arrogant voice floated down the corridor. Jace.

"And my question is answered," sighed Annika.

Jace and Alec strode into the dining room, arguing. Jace was wearing a black tuxedo, and he looked absolutely stunning. Alec was in a suit of dark navy blue, and there were even lapels.

"Jace! Alec!" Annika smiled, then realized something else. "Wait, if you're here, then it really wasn't a dream."

Everyone in the room save Jace and Will—who wore identical expressions of lazy amusement—stared at her.

She then shrugged it off. "Who cares! This is still the best birthday ever!"


End file.
